Making It Work
by Galen Devereaux
Summary: On that frozen lake, Luke never fell through the ice. Someone else, just as vital to Clem did. It changes the course of their lives forever.(Choices for the storyline are given at the end of every chapter. 6 chapters will be the length of the story. Vote in the comments. Story may be longer and/or have a sequel if requested enough. FINISHED
1. On Thin Ice

**Hey guys! It's Galen Devereaux, and this fanfiction is going to have 3-5 chapters, possibly longer if it is requested, at the end of every chapter is a choice to make. Each choice will change the story majorly and each will have a **_**very**_** different outcome. Vote in the comments. Please like, comment, review, whatever else you want. Please review, as I am always open to criticism, thanks and read on.**

Chapter 1: A Frozen Smile

The first step caused the slippery surface to crack. Immediately, she knew this was _not _a good idea. They all reluctantly trudged onwards, each of the ragtag team wincing as they heard that terrible, sharp sound below them as the peril heightened. The danger and a sense of apprehension was thick around the group. Mike slowly stayed ahead, clasping AJ, comforted and cautioned by his soft cries.

Clementine silently tiptoed forward, being extremely careful, like everyone else. The bitter wind and light snowflakes wrapped around them. A chill of both anxiety and cold had set deep within all of their bones. They all made it to the halfway point, giving reassuring, yet nervous smiles to one another, except for Kenny, Jane and Arvo. Then everything went to hell.

The survivors turned at the all-too-familiar sound of walkers approaching, still meters behind them, moaning at their next targets. Knowing how unintentionally stealthy they were, and how their luck had been going recently, Clementine wasn't surprised. She saw the ice under Luke begin to break, but quickly reached forward and yanked him off of the hazardous zone of solidified lake, although, that seemed like the entirety of the lake now.

He sighed in relief, thanking her incessantly for rescuing him. But, they suddenly heard Arvo's yell as he noticed the undead creeping up on their location, and then ran forward towards the skeleton of a residence. Kenny pursued him screaming, "Get back you fuckin' Ruskie shitbird!"

Mike avoided the chase and was the first to make it unscathed to the other side of the petrified body of water. "STOP! KENNY! DON'T HURT HIM, HE'S JUST A KID!" Bonnie shouted. "Be quiet before you attract more of them!" Jane retorted as the redhead looked on, scared. Mike was yelling for Kenny to slow down. Worry consumed the entire lot of them. The pop of fracturing ice quieted all of their voices. Arvo suddenly fell into the below-0 temperature water, and Kenny yanked him up. Or tried to.

Arvo's flailing form only broke more ice. Kenny was pulled down by Arvo's crazy movements. He fell, and that was apparently the last straw as a large section of ice dissolved, plunging both the redneck and the Eurasian down into the frosty depths. Clementine yelled and ran towards them, but Jane and Bonnie both held her back. "No, let go of me, stop, they'll die you idiots!" Clem screamed at them. She managed to knock Jane down with a well-placed kick to the leg, and Bonnie let go of the 11-year old to help the young woman up before she fell through as well.

Clementine rushed to the site of Kenny and Arvo's disappearance. She abruptly heard the sounds of thumping hands on ice. Clementine sprinted to the now, irregular noise, a few feet away. Kenny was there, giving the warm smile that had been directed towards her so often at the Motor Inn, the manor, the streets of Savannah, even Crawford and the Ski Lodge, and on the road. The kind only Kenny, the kind bearded fellow who had befriended Lee, and took care of her in his stead, even if she wasn't a child anymore, could give.

She raised her Glock 17 to shoot out the only thing keeping them apart, but he shook his head no. She did the same. Firing a single 9mm round into the frozen layer of lake water, a small hole appeared. Kenny instantaneously threw out his crowbar and Ruger SR9 semi-automatic pistol. Before lunging at the tiny gap to reach the Southern man, she looked at him once more, and then realized. He _wanted _this.

After everything he had been through, his one and final wish was death. Even if he didn't know it. So she placed her hand against the ice, directly above where his was. He continued to smile, and then a reanimated Arvo, who skin was taut and gray agains his bones and covered with teeth marks, reached out from the murky surface and chomped down hard on Kenny's throat, filling the dark water with a bright red substance similar in color to cherry Kool-Aid into the surrounding volume of water. Kenny went limp and his fight just _died_ with him.

He drifted down, and Clem cried as she watched the last known remaining survivor she had been familiar with from the start of the collapse of the world, become just another meal for a shambling cadaver. She stood up, sobbing as she grabbed Kenny's things, and noticed the small, filthy orange hat rise to the small bullet hole she had made. Clementine daintily reached down and grabbed AJ's inheritance. Then she continued to where the others were waiting, on the opposing side of the lake.

…

After starting a fire, and feeding AJ half of the remaining formula, Clementine looked out the window to where Bonnie was keeping watch, as Jane searched for more supplies in the half-built house, and Mike worked out back on the truck. Luke was sitting with her, tending to the fire Clem had created with her nail file. "Listen Clem, its terrible that this happened… I…I'm so-so sorry. It should have been me. It should have been me." He muttered to himself more than the young survivor. Although she had busy starting a fire, giving the group's members tasks to fulfill, and feeding AJ, whom she held while he contentedly slept, her thoughts kept returning to the single moment where the Floridian's eyes glazed over, with his mouth trapped in an expression of pride and hope for Clem and AJ's future, like a moth to a fire.

Staring into the bright yellow flames, reliving the visceral scene again and again, something dawned on the small African-American girl. Kenny was harmful to the group. She had always known it, even on that train. Katjaa and Duck were _everything _to him. When they died, something broke inside of him. Something that had remained in disrepair until his death. Kenny had brutally bludgeoned a man to death with the crowbar lying with his softly glimmering sidearm on the mantle now. He had tied up and practicaly tortured a young boy for trying to protect his own, something Kenny certainly should have understood. Clementine had seen the bruises on Sarita's arms and torso. He had threatened Clementine, after she had somewhat caused his girlfriend's death. He had truly been driven mad by his son and wife's gruesome passing. Killing him was no more than a rabid dog's putting-down. It should have happened a long time ago. Absorbed in this new revelation, Luke promptly called her and she took AJ outside, where the group was meeting by the truck.

"Well, we all know North is a bad idea." Mike was saying. "Maybe, we could go down south, on the highway to any state we can find, hell, I don't know Texas even. As long as we can be a helluva lot warmer than we are now." Creases appeared in Bonnie's forehead. "No, no, no. We should go to the town, we know for sure there's places to scavenge and somewhere we can hole up at for a bit. It'll be safer then the road at least." Luke sighed. He opened his mouth a couple times, and then finally told them," Let's stay here, we have plenty of supplies and firewood. We'll all sleep together to conserve body heat, and there's half a dozen blankets we can use. We get some rest and decide after that." Jane immediately scowled and gave the six of them a piece of her mind.

"Hell to the no. This house is pathetic, and we can't defend it. We don't have a lot of baby formula left, and the food and water _will run out_. We can't just pack up and head south, we don't have a map, the main roads are blocked by cars, and we won't know if there will be any place to resupply at or spend the night, and that town might be full of walkers, bandits, and have no fortifiable buildings. _Or _it could be picked clean of anything we can use. But we do know where Howe's is," An eruption of refusals and accusations of insanity flew towards the short-haired female. Her hand immediately grasped the bowie knife at her thigh in its sheath. She eased her palm off of the smooth wooden hilt of the shining fixed blade. "Alright, alright. I can see where you are _all_ coming from. But, the defenses were down, and the walkers will have cleared out by now. We have enough weaponry and muscle to take down any lurkers and Neanderthals too dumb to flee that place. We know there's food, water, and most importantly baby formula. There'll still be a lot of guns and ammo left, along with plenty of other resources. The greenhouses will be intact. It's also a fortress on the inside, and it's a definite long-term place. It's the best chance we have, that AJ has." she concludes, practically out of breath. The five of them all look extremely shocked. That's the longest any of us have ever heard out of her in one breath. Unfortunately, everyone continues to stick with their own guns-sorry opinions, since everyone does the former now-and the deciding vote comes down to their brunette eleven-year old, who looks up from that tiny cooing carrier of hope. "Well? Waddya say Clem?" Luke asks.

**PACK UP AND HEAD TO TEXAS**

**DRIVE TO THE MYSTERY TOWN**

**STAY AT THE RUSSIANS' FORMER CAMP**

**HEAD TO HOWE'S**

**Vote below in the comments!**


	2. Gingers, Man

**Hey guys its Galen Devereaux! I wanted to apologize **_**so much**_** for the super-long delay. I just wanted to say thanks for the reviews, favorites, and just general reading of one of my first fanfics. Please review, criticize, favorite, follow and everything else.**

**MAKING IT WORK**

**Chapter 2:**

Another decision. Fortunately, I know what to do. I look down at AJ's gurgling form and smile. To protect him is the only purpose in my life right now. To keep us both safe, and that's why I am deciding to stay here.

"Listen guys, okay? I think we should stay here. Before you object, hear me out. We have those axes we found out back to cut trees down, so we can stock up on lumber, and we can use the rest to block up the house and provide better insulation and protection to the structure. We can hunt and make runs to the town, Howe's, or anywhere 're all really beat up, and we need to be able to rest up and restore some strength. We won't stay forever, just a couple days to a week. We'll find baby formula by tomorrow night, at that town or Carver's old camp. Okay?"

They all gaze at me expressionlessly. Then, as if by magic, their faces restart and various emotions, such as hesitancy, trust, annoyance (sorry Jane) and others flash across them. However, all of them nod and break off quickly to get back to their respective duties. I take a deep breath of frigid air, and smile wearily at AJ's sweet face. I know I'll never tire of it. I made the right choice. Didn't I?

…

Hushing AJ down, with a game of peekaboo, wincing in realization that his sobs are due to hunger, I quickly yank out my Glock 17 at the sound of footsteps approaching the house, and then running in. The smooth black hilt in my hand has become familiar as my own face, which I don't see much anymore and don't hope to. The horrors of this world, both walkers and people, along my daily fight for my own and others' survival, have all certainly taken their toll on my appearance. Anyway, back to the fact that a potential murderer, bandit or something worse has just barged in on AJ's and mine own tender moment, I quickly realize it's just Mike, who was out chopping wood. He grins.

"Hey Clem, just wanted to let you know me and Bonnie are headed out for a hunt. We'll be back before nightfall. 'Kay?" "Yeah, sure Mike. Where's Luke and Jane?" I question. "Out back. You want me to get them?" he inquires. "No that's okay. Just wanted to know. We need to stick close. Can't be too safe." I tell him. He grins again. "That's my girl." He replies, chuckling, and giving me a noogie as he passes and heads out back. I smile. He may not have been very kind at first, but he and I have sure warmed up to each other over the span of a few days. I turn back, laughing to myself and make some silly faces at the little barely-a-week-old African-American in my lap. I hear two pairs of feet trudging away from the house, and look up just in time to see a glimpse of fiery red hair, and a skull of close-shaven black hair disappear into the tree-line. Luke's cheerful mug comes into view. He has been in quite a good mood since I sided with him on the choice of where the group's next destination would be.

"Hey, just wanted to ask you if you would like to learn something new. It could really save your life someday." He says, looking at me hopefully. I nod, and walk outside with AJ, to find Jane so she could watch over him while I'm with Luke. I see her hunched over, sorting through all of our stuff; the bags of weapons and ammo we got from Howe's and this place, Natasha, Arvo's "sick" sister's meds, the supplies we got from this house, leftover fuel and a toolbox form the truck and some gardening gear from a shed outback. It seems we have plenty for any group. Jane notices me, and sees AJ in my arms, immediately turning away.

"How are you Clem? What do you need?" I hold AJ out to her, giving her the fierce look that has become part of my daily routine. She groans, then takes him gingerly, and carefully walks back into the house. I laugh, knowing how uncomfortable she is around kids, one might say that applies to me, but I don't think I qualify as a kid. Not anymore. I then turn to Luke, who is holding his Norinco Type-56 and beckoning for me to join him near the afore-mentioned shed. I glare at him distrustfully, and he chortles, but sees my tapping foot and cocked head, and clears his throat in a few seconds.

"Well, you're probably wondering why I called you out here." He says. "Thanks, Captain Obvious," I reply. He looks at me again, sizing up my arms. "Yeah, I think you're big enough," he says under his breath. He walks over and holds out his AK-model assault rifle towards me. My mouth goes agape in shock. After a few seconds of hasty deliberation, I accept the long gun and cradle it against my body, the large weigh a bit encumbering. If I have trouble carrying it, how am I supposed to shoot this gun, let alone do it well? "Now I know this is probably a little bit scary, but you can do this. You sewed up your own arm with fishing wire and hook, didn't you?" I grumble about who's fault that is, but I then begin to listen and follow his instructions on how to properly, efficiently, and effectively maintain, utilize, and defend my self with these sorts of firearms. It takes some time, but eventually I understand everything he has told me, and am excited to test my newfound skills. A flock of geese begin to fly overhead, one of the last ones heading south. I wonder what delayed them…I don't waste precious time to take orders from Luke: I simply do.

I raise the Type-56, and aim at those birds, following them with both my sense of sight, and the rifle itself. I take a deep breath, and exhale with a squeeze of the trigger. 3 times. 3 ducks go down in less than 30 seconds. Luke whoops in delight and runs to claim them. I am furiously giddy with myself for learning such an important new survival skill. My head turns at the sound of Jane going in my direction, with a crying AJ. I quickly explain that I was just getting dinner, not killing walkers, and she sees Luke picking up limp fowl on the ground, sighing in relief. Something is going on between those two. Like, boyfriend-girlfriend, or kissing stuff. Is there any difference? I resolve to ask her later.

"He won't be quiet," she tells me, whispering in fear of attracting any more walkers that could already be heading this way from the gunshots and baby wails. She hurriedly hands me something. "It was my sister's. You know before all this. She was into that sort of stuff. Who knew… that almost all of it would really happen." It takes my eyes some time to adjust to the image of a crossed machete and M1 Rifle on the front of the tattered gray book. _The Zombie Survival Guide_ by Max Brooks. Hmph. I see a lot of handwritten notes stapled and/or taped to the back of the book. "I added a bunch of my own shit to it. Real experience from a real survivor, you know?" She informs me. Luke walks back over, staring at me proudly with 3 mallards slung over his shoulder.

"What's goin' on you-" He's cut off by the sound of walkers approaching at a steady rate. "Oh shit." Jane murmurs. She heads back inside with AJ, leaving me and Luke to draw our weapons in preparation for whatever is coming this way. But it's not walkers. Not yet, at least. Mike appears from the edge of the woods, splattered with fresh blood, and tears streaming down his face. But that's not what grabs Luke's and mine attention. It's the bloody and still figure of Bonnie, mouth drooping open and eyes doing the same. She could almost be asleep. If it weren't for the massive bullet hole that had ripped apart her torso, along with the blood.

Mike rushes over, sobbing as he lies her on the ground, where she remains motionless. My instincts kick in, and I rip off Bonnie's jacket to examine the damage. Carefully looking at the gunshot wound, I realized the bullet must have been of a powerful rifle caliber. No handgun except for perhaps a .500 S&amp;W or .50 AE, .454 Casull-carrying firearm could do this much harm to the human body. I press her jacket on the entry wound, and look for an exit one. But there is none. I bite my lip in worry. How the hell will we fix this? We would need anesthetic and tweezers, stiches and a needle. I remember the tackle box in a small shed out back.

"Luke, go get the tackle box. This needs to be fixed up fast." I shout to him. Luke doesn't notice, as he is swinging his machete right and left, searching for more heads to slice open with his blade. When I look back, my worst fears are confirmed. A reanimated corpse with red hair has latched its teeth onto Mike's wrist. My hatchet appears in my hand, and I move for a swift chop to my target. Then I realize that a few walkers have slipped past Luke and have started banging on thee back door. Where should I strike? The bleeding arm or the decayed skulls? I don't want to have another Sarita situation on this group's already weak hands. But there is no time for indecision. I raise the small axe.

**-Chop off Mike's hand-**

**-or-**

**-Kill the walkers attacking the house-**

**Hey guys! I am incredibly sorry for the super-long delay. I hate repeat this, but it's only for emphasis. I broke my computer and it took an extremely long time to fix this. Otherwise I will update no later than a week for now. I am still new at fanfics, as one could most likely see. I realize I changed the story to a first-person perspective, but realized I've realized that I write better this way, after some playing around. As always, thank you, please vote comment, favorite, follow and review. Happy Holidays!**


	3. Motor Inn Memories

**Hey guys! This is the third Chapter of Making It Work, I hope you enjoy. **

**Please review, comment and follow. SPOILER ALERT: There is a Season 1 character's return in this chapter! It's a fan favorite as well. I want to say thanks for all the views and favorites, along with everything else. This was my very best Christmas present! Happy Holidays! **

**Making It Work: Chapter 3**

Mike's first screams are girlish, high-pitched, and made-up of mostly shrilly shrieks, incessant sobbing, and the occasional groan here and there. I never saw Lee _during _his amputation, but I know he couldn't have been pussying out like_ this_. Nevertheless, I keep hacking until all that remains is half of a limb.

Blood obscures everything, and I can taste Mike's gore in my mouth, I repeatedly blink, trying to keep my vision clear. I send the hatchet into four decaying skulls, (including what _was _Bonnie's) securing the unfinished house, and then I quickly tear off Bonnie's shirt, revealing the plain blue cotton bra underneath. I can barely tell due to the scarlet that stains all of Bonnie's upper body. I wrap that around the stump, just like Christa taught me. Hopefully I can stop the bleeding with this, at most only temporarily. Luke rushes over, as the that small herd has finally been desposed of.

"Oh my…Jesus Christ, what the hell happened!?" Luke cries. Mike mutters under his breath, and keeps turning back to where Bonnie's formerly reanimated corpse rests.

"Bonnie died and turned, I had to amputate." I say without looking at him, too focused on keeping Mike upright, and the blood-flow stymied. Jane turns when we burst through the oak doors, her face grimacing as she sees Mike, she then sets AJ down in his "crib", really just a cardboard box with that fluffy pink stuff in between the cracks of the bare walls.

Jane starts a fire, with my nail file, and then leads Mike over to the fireplace. She pulls out the gray-bottle of peroxide, and sets it down.

"I need a rag," she says briskly. "Hurry. Thanks." She tells Luke as he hands a candy-cane striped washrag, at which point she pours the deceptively clear liquid onto the mutilated appendage. He wails, but his pain-filled cries cannot mask the sound of walkers banging on the back door. Luke and I draw our bladed weapons in preparation.

Mike will not shut up, despite Jane's hushed commands to do so. I place Bonnie's bloody shirt into his open mouth, and immediately he begins gagging on the metallic-tasting, forest-green tee. Although, it's barely recognizable with all of the gore, which I am covered in entirely, only a quarter of it belonged to walkers.

Then she grasps a burning log. Luke's confused look lasts only a few seconds, before Mike's bawling intensifies, causing the little baby boy on the bench to do the same. A few hours later the clamor dies down. Now we can talk about what the hell to do next. "We need to go, pack up everything and leave." Jane angrily tells Luke, while she checks Mike's wound for the umpteenth time.

"Jane, we don't know what's out there. We could be killed." At this, Jane looks at Luke like he's an idiot. He may be at this point. "There is a _fucking psychopath out there shooting random survivors_. They killed one of our own, and this building can offer us no protection against them. And the cold isn't slowing the walkers down. We head out tonight, before this bastard comes and slits our throats while we sleep. And they could have friends. Clem," she suddenly turns to me, pleading for assistance.

"This is AJ's _life _we're talking about here. There's no formula, and a little food left. We'll starve to death or go crazy waiting for walkers or this insane fucker to finish us off here." She finishes. I can see now, that she and I are forming a connection that exceeds just talking. We're both damaged people. We've lost our family and everyone else we loved. We don't have much left, but I see now that we're both going to do the same thing to protect what little remains of what we love.

"She's right Luke, there's no better choice here. This is the best option, the one that gives us the greatest chance for survival." Jane nods to me in approval. Luke sputters around a bit, before finding his words. Poor baby. I guess we have two here.

I giggle a little bit. He shoots me a glare, but I give him those puppy eyes, and he cracks like the broken glass at the Motor Inn Katjaa warned me and Duck about. He grins uncontrollably, then redirects his gaze to the only other female survivor in the room.

"Fine, but Mike can't move. What can we do about that?" He has a point there. Mike _has _been slumped against the fireplace for a long time. After his cauterization, he's been unresponsive. I shift closer to AJ, and pick up the infant and back away, towards the discussion.

It looks as if Jane's convinced the Southerner, as he is nodding his head and has a defeated expression on his face. Something catches my eye at the edge of the icy lake. A figure in what appears to riot armor, like Swat or some shit. A heavily modified rifle is tightly clutched in their hands. They have many various weapons strapped on their person in various holsters and sheaths, along with a massive backpack. And they bolt as soon as I lay my eyes on them.

"GUYS!" I cry, gesturing in the vague direction of the mysterious man that was spying on our shelter. They see what-or who- I mean, and we all duck down to the cold wooden surface of the tan floor. Jane practically drags Mike over, despite protests from the worried and still-spooked Luke.

The figure continues to rush, and at an extraordinary pace, considering the amount of weight they carry with every step over the frozen ground. "Is that him? Is that the person who killed Bonnie? Answer me, dammit!" Jane nearly bellows. Mike's pale face makes the tiniest of up-and-down motions, and then Luke slings him over his back, stumbling towards the fireplace, carefully avoiding his gunshot wound in the shoulder.

At least his own, in the leg is getting better. The shorthaired woman calmly advances on our stockpile of weaponry (a lot) and our remaining ammo (little). She picks up an AKMS, checks the magazine, then pulls the operating rod back, loading a 7.62.39mm round inside the chamber.

She nods to Luke, then does the same with his Norinco-56. "I've got a plan. I'll fill you all in later." She announces. Both Mike and I keep on guard, waiting to see if the assailant is coming back, with my Glock 17 drawn. A couple minutes later, I turn back, seeing the pair of them geared up with an AK-model assault rifle, a sidearm, and spare semi-automatic pistol as backup each. Both of them have various blunt tools stuck in their belts, and their freshly sharpened (courtesy of me) combat knife and machete, respectively. Mike draws Bonnie's CZ-P09 and his SIG-Sauer P250, and lays them beside himself at his feet.

"Clem. You and AJ need to hide. Just in in case _he_ gets in. Got any ideas as to where?" Jane looks at me hopefully. We see the stack of old plastic bins at the same time.

…

It's been an hour or two, since Luke and Jane went 'hunting' as she referred to it. Where the hell are they? I wonder. I poked some holes in this blue bin with my scratch awl (courtesy of Jane). At least AJ and I can breathe and see a little bit of Mike's trembling frame, and hear his labored breathing, which as with every noise that surrounds us, seems louder than an earthquake.

I'm doubting that Luke will be able to squeeze that trigger. He still thinks everyone has some good in them. He confided that he doesn't want to kill anyone to me. Ever. He doesn't know that it's unavoidable. Or maybe he does, but he wants to stay away from it as long as possible. Kind of like Death and every person that's still alive.

A creak resonates throughout the small building. The sun has set, and the only illumination comes from the weak flames in the fireplace, and it's made up of mostly ashes and little shards of log and anything else that Jane could burn.

Mike struggles to get up on such wobbly feet. His silhouette portrays a thinning, scared man holding a handgun. That shadowy form is knocked to ground by the butt-stock of a scoped assault rifle.

He never saw the person that moved like liquid, incredibly fast, enter from the back door. The attacker starts towards our stockpile of supplies and weapons, both melee and firearms-wise. I know that this isn't like last time, with that man with the homemade spear, and his buddies who probably killed Christa, _or worse_.

I've come close to both of those things. But not this time. Now I'm armed, and I have the advantage of surprise. I raise my Glock 17, and sight the bandit's right leg in, take a breath, and exhale as I squeeze the trigger.

A single echoing bang, and an orange flash from the muzzle of my semi-automatic pistol, and Bonnie's murderer drops to the ground with an almost quiet exclamation of pain, that I instantly recognize as feminine. Luke and Jane throw the door open, weapons raised, from the side of the house, where they had been hiding after making a wide circle around the area, so they could sneak back to wait for when this bitch's back was turned to kill her. But I beat them to the cake.

A least when it came to injuring her. When I hand AJ over to Luke, who gives the masked woman a glare before crossing the room to lay Alvie down in his crib. After completing that, he hurries to where a still unconscious Mike lays.

The fire's orange glow gives Jane's face a righteous look. It's a bit weird honestly. She has the barrel of her rifle right in between the scavenger's eyes. "Clem, take her mask off." She motions to the formerly stone-still woman. I cautiously go towards her, bloody hand outstretched. The woman stares in my direction.

I tear off her disguise. Underneath is the woman who I used to think was a bossy lady, who Lee respected so I did. I never really liked that much. My free hand flies to the purple hair bands that I _still _wear, even after all this time.

The scars that have accumulated on her face don't make my realization of her identity anymore difficult. In fact, it helps, she was always a tough person, and now she has more evidence to show for it. She saved Lee at the Dairy. She killed Carley with her own gun. "Clementine." Lilly Caul croaks.

…

After we strip Lilly of her weapons, which is quite a lot, we have a decision to make. "This bitch killed Bonnie!" Jane hisses to a conflicted Luke.

"What right do we have Jane?! We ain't a Supreme Court. We can't just kill her, an unarmed woman, can we? " He hollers. The brunette man knots his dirty hair between filthy fingers.

"She said it was in self-defense," I chime in. I glance at her, while Mike keeps her at gunpoint. Mike quietly grunts an affirmation.

"Wait, what the fuck do you mean?" the yellow-jacketed twenty-something inquires. A mumbled admission from Mike reveals the truth.

"Me and Bonnie saw her alone in the woods. We crept up from behind. I grabbed her, and Bonnie came from the front. This asshole managed to get a few shots off. I tossed her to the ground. I grabbed Bonnie…you know the rest." Mike's voice squeaks at every interval where her name is used. Jane curses, and Luke continues holding his head in his hands.

We only have so many options. AJ starts crying. I extend my arm over, reach into Bonnie's bag, and pull out our last bit of formula. I adjust the cap so AJ can drink, and put it to his mouth.

The bottle's liquid is draining away, and will be empty in seconds. I reach for a towel so that I can burp him when he's done.

"We only have so many options Clem. What do you think we should do? I think we throw her out." Jane says to me. Luke shakes his head, "Hell no. We could use her help we can get. If she knows the area…the manpower would be nice," Noticing the venomous scowl she points at him, he quickly and awkwardly adds on,

"If that's okay with you that is…" Mike looks her dead in the eye when he says this, "

She should die for killing Bonnie. I'll gladly do it myself." The dark-skinned man, who still has the blood of his lover splattered across his face, which he refused to let Luke wipe off.

He presses the black barrel of Bonnie's CZ to her head, where it is carefully obscured by her tangled brown do'. AJ gurgles as he starts to burp. The group, battered and weary, looks at me. I burp AJ. "Okay guys, I say we-

**Kill her**

**Throw her out **

**Enlist her assistance in finding a place to stay at**

**That's Chapter Three! I hope you guys enjoyed it. By the way, Jane and AJ would not have been harmed if another choice was made, but Mike would have been killed. I will never do that again. Sorry if you're angry about that. I am going to make a longer sequel if I get 50 reviews on the final chapter, which I will tell you when it arrives. Anyway thanks, for reading. Please comment, review, favorite, and everything else. Merry Christmas, Amazing New Year, Happy Hanukkuh, and Jolly Kwanzah… hope that's how you spell those…**


	4. Downtown Time

**Hey guys! Super sorry for such a long delay. It's been over a month since I posted, I just wanted to see more reviews and favorites before posting, and to work on my prose and other story ideas. I am changing the tense n this chapter. Well at long last, here is the 3****rd**** chapter to Making it Work, and I am going to keep up regular posting from now on, Lee-lover's honor!**

"No," I told them, my voice firm and controlled. "She killed in self-defense, and we need as much help as we can get." Luke nodded, happy with my decision. Jane continued to stare at the brunette, then glanced at me with caution and respect in her orbs.

Mike's blood-splattered chest heaved with labored breathing, with the rage of his lover's killer being allowed to live. He does not lower the barrel of the handgun pressed to her head.

"This _bitch_, is the reason that Bonnie's dead," he said half-heartedly. His finger tightened on the black trigger, and as Jane and Luke crossed over to stop him, he keels over. Jane immediately placed her sidearm to Lilly's temple. Luke reached down to check Mike's pulse, just as Carlos taught him.

"It's weak," he told me. "_Really _weak." "Put him down if you have to," both Jane and I said simultaneously. We looked at each other in surprise. I thought back on how Luke told me how Jane had rubbed off on me. I guessed that I was now starting to see the extent of our newfound bond.

…

"So, here's how this is gonna go," I started off with. "You're going to help us find shelter and supplies, okay? If you screw with me, I'll put a bullet in your back." Lilly stared at me blankly, even though I know that she was taking this all into account for her next actions.

She nodded, a sharp, jerking motion, which began the series of questions from Jane and I, who held Arvo's silver revolver to her head, with the hammer cocked. During the course of the interrogation, she complied, just barely. Where she was before, who's she with now, the usual. It all winds down to one question.

"Where is a place we can go for food, water, ammo, meds or anything?" Jane asked. Lilly's voice, which was hoarse at the beginning of our discussion, became stronger and more certain over time, although still emotionless, answers.

"A town, its nearby and is inhabited by a small group of scavengers who cleared it out and reside there now. One of them is not in the best mental state, but I can assure you we'll get help there. For a price." Jane's forehead furrowed.

"A price? Like what? Oxy, weapons, supplies, or something along the lines of cigarettes and personal items?" Lilly shrugged. "I don't know. All I know for sure is that they don't take to kindly to freeloaders, so you'll have to pay for whatever you get. Bill has…_unique_ tastes. It _will _be worth it though."

Still unsure, I delivered a final inquiry. "When's the last time you even saw these guys?" Lilly's face set into a mask of deep thinking. "Several months at the most. I don't come around here to often." She laughed bitterly.

Mike moaned in the back, and AJ cries from the opposite wall. "We'll head there tomorrow then," After taking care of the two little whiners, I told the group this, minutes later. Everyone began to pack for tomorrow. Besides the half-dead black man, and the starving baby, that is.

…

The truck slowly rumbled up to the town, which looked abandoned and unlooted. Strange, as Lilly had said that scavengers lived there now. Hmmm… I grasped the hilt of my 9mm, and hopped out with the others. "Someone needs to stay behind y'all," Luke said to them worriedly. "To look after little Alvin," "Speak of the devil," Jane told us with a disgusting tone in her voice, and an even worse scent in the air. "He needs another diaper."

…

After walking Jane through the process of changing the newborn, Luke agreed to stay back, as did Mike, who didn't have a choice anyway. Jane, Lilly and I proceeded towards the town. Both Jane and I drew our handguns. Lilly huffed, and looked away. We had found an extensive array of weaponry in her backpack, and on her person, but we weren't giving it back to her anytime soon, according to the yellow-jacketed woman beside me. I glared at Jane.

After a few silent gestures, she relented and held out Arvo's silver revolver. Lilly took it, and gave a small nod to Jane. As we walked through the town, several things became evident: There were no walkers or people in sight, and all the nearby cars were stripped of parts and fuel.

"Remember those traps I warned you about," Jane whispered. Everyone nodded. Suddenly, the brunette made an abrupt turn down an alleyway between to old brick buildings. Jane rushed over, and took hold of Lilly's jacket. She whipped her around. Lilly put a finger to her lips.

She beckoned for us with her open palm. Her curving fingers revealed that she only had three on her left. I wondered how she lost them. I got in between the two older females, in order to hopefully dispel any built up tension there. Lilly looked at a broken window, as the wind picked up and we all rubbed our arms.

"Maybe you should check it out. We may need to stay the night there," "No," I replied. "AJ and Mike don't have that long. We need that baby formula and antibiotics as soon as possible." Jane shook her head, almost imperceptibly. I turned and studied the inside anyway. The building was full of broken furniture and corpses. However, a few old cans and what appeared to be full water bottles, laid there. I carefully observed my surroundings. I noticed a long length of thick rope that led back into the darkness. I pulled out my butterfly lighter, and meticulously extracted myself from such a dangerous position. The steel cord went all the way up to the ceiling, where several cinder blocks hung. I saw that upsetting the metal rope would have snapped the large gray weights from their current positions, and they would have crushed my skull, at least broken my bones in several different areas, effectively crippling me. I would have laid there until I died from internal bleeding, or starvation, or dehydration or all three. None of those were very good fates. As I stepped out to warn the group of the booby trap, I saw that both of my companions had drawn their sidearms, and had aimed them at two burly looking men. One had a shaggy length of blonde hair, and a rather scruffy beard, and he was massive.

The other sported brown hair and a beard, and was garbed in a flannel shirt, hiking boots, and a down vest and parka. The blonde brute wore a similar outfit. They both clutched a kukri machete and a crowbar, respectively.

Aware that anyone could die in the next few seconds, I tiptoed toward them, hoping to defuse this ticking time bomb. The two backpacked men stared at me, unabashed. They were obviously surprised a child had lived through this hell so long. _Everyone underestimates_, I thought. But as both my old friend Walter and I knew, I could definitely use that to my advantage.

"Leave. NOW. 'Fore things get ugly," The brown-haired one practically spat at me. The blonde one gripped the other's shoulder. "Lilly. Bill it is Lilly. Friend. Trust…get...umm…business." His bad language, with both its heavy Texan accent, and practically no grammar, making it barely decipherable, seemed to persuade Bill to lower his bladed weapon and speak.

"What do you people want. Food, ammo, medicine? 'Cause we got it, just about anything you could ask for." Bill tells us. We informed him of our plight for baby formula and antibiotics. The two men turned, and discussed what we told them.

They turned, and began to speak. "The only place that has that is the pharmacy at the edge of the town. It's inhabited by a small group of thugs though," Bill said. "You help us, and you'll get what you need. First though, we need to head back to one of our outposts, more of an armory really. We'll lead the way if you agree." He finished.

…

"We don't have a choice here guys," I told the two women, as we have a whispered conversation away from the two gargantuans who watched for the nearby thugs and/or walkers near a small intersection, which is, according to Bill a few blocks away from the armory he spoke of. "Don't we?" I ask, as I get no verbal answer from both the brunette and the blonde, only an uncomfortable glance to the side.

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?" I said to them unbelievably. How can they just doom an innocent life? And the life of one man who helped Jane and the others survive? Lilly I get, due to the fact that the black man's death would mean one less threat to worry about.

_But,_ we need all the help we can get, and AJ represents the kind of hope I haven't had since I learned that the train was headed for Savannah. I can't give that up so easily. I give them The Evil Eye, as Duck called it whenever we crossed Larry's path during our stay at The Motor Inn. I nod to Bill. "Let's move." I say.

…

"Well, here we are," Bill says as he unlocks a midnight-black iron gate, and leads us inside. As we approached the steps, attempting to stay away from all the old bushes, snowdrifts, and corpses that have accumulated in the unkempt yard, he tells us that only two go in, everyone else stays out. "And one 'a those positions has already been taken by me, so choose quick." I raised my hand silently. He turned and beckoned towards me. He then proceeded into the dark, brick building. Jane quickly yanked me towards her, and whispers this. "Get the upper hand, wait until his back is turned, and then WHAM. We get more than just baby formula and meds." She turned and stood near Dominic, the blonde man. Lilly kept a lookout and avoided any eye contact with us.

"Kid!" A muffled shout called. I crossed hesitantly, and went downstairs into the old basement, feeling 2 pairs of eyes that bore into the back of my skull. Bill waited there for me, and then headed for a one of several gun racks against the wall. My mouth agape, I took in the amazing amount of weaponry and ammunition before me. AR-15'S, AK-47-esque assault rifles, scoped hunting rifles, tactical and skeet shotguns, semi-automatic pistols, and magnum revolvers. Heckler and Koch submachine guns and a .50 caliber Browning machine gun crowd for room in one corner. And that's just one wall. The others sported green military boxes stacked to the ceiling, with yellow lettering that described the rounds contained in each that filled up one entire side.

Another had crates full of scopes, tactical lasers and flashlights, holsters and gunslings, as well as homemade explosives such as Molotov cocktails, along with rusty cans that have needles, screwdrivers, scissor blades and nails poking out in every direction. The final had every sort of melee weapon imaginable, each with sheaths and sharpeners. Bill motioned for me to take my pick, and in doing so, he dropped a DIY grenade, which, _Thank God_, didn't go off. As he reached under the workshop table to grab it, he fell on his stomach, and was preoccupied attempting to reach the bomb.

A door at the end of the hall was ajar, and I turned to peer inside. It was dark, but I just barely made out what appeared an emergency stash of medical supplies, and baby formula. They must have grabbed it only because it was there. Or maybe they had had a baby once at some time. Maybe. I somewhat hoped not, because its current absence meant that it was most likely dead. A brick laid a few inches away. I grabbed it, and looked at the struggling man. We could take that stuff and go, but there was no guarantee I would succeed. Or, that we could get out of the town without the bandits coming after us themselves.

**-Knock Bill out, and steal his group's supplies-**

**-or-**

**-Follow the agreement-**

**OMG I am so sorry! I hate that I was on Hiatus for two freakin' months! I will be updating every week at least, I am grateful to all who read this story, especially the ones who will continue to do so, even after the injustice I did to all of you. In your honor, I am posting another story tomorrow, called She's Not Here, which is essentially a Beth/Family reunion in the afterlife. Ill let you guys know! Also, credit to leafs nation for his OC Dominic, if you haven't read his Lilly/Jane/Clem trilogy, do so now! It's the best on the entire community! Review fav, and comment! THX guys!**


	5. Bombs and Bastards

**Oh my God...I've failed all of you guys. I promised on LEE-LOVER'S honor I would have this up more than 3 MONTHS AGO. I am a terrible procrastinate person. So, from now on, my story's are all going too be fully created before publishing. I can't say anything about my next stories, as you guys won't believe me. So here it is. Finally. The 5th chapter to Making It Work. I wanted to thank leafsnation for being my best friend on this site, for encouraging and inspiring me, and for being one of the best damn authors I have seen in a good long time. Not just including fanfiction. I am trying to get the next chapter up soon. Oh my freaking goodness...**

Shaking my head, I back up, and as Bill enters, I chastise myself for even thinking of such thing as killing or knocking Bill out. What would Lee say? Or Kenny? Nevermind...I DEFINITELY know what Kenny would say. Or Carver. I frown, realizing how similar they were. Both lost their families, both just went crazy. They did bad things in the name of protecting their people. And both died horribly. Bill hurries back. "Kid, grab some ammo. Look for 9mm and and some shells. 12-gauge. They're bright red, y'can't miss them." He gestures towards one of the many cabinets lining the wall, and I open one, selecting a small cardboard box about the size of baseball. I pop the lid and see a group of bronze circles with the words "12-GAUGE" stamped on them.

I toss them to the tall man, who throws it into the ratty pack he wears. Being a scavenger, one would think he had something better. But it must be special to him, as he lovingly caresses the stamp on the back that reads "FRANK". He glances up and sees me staring and I turn away, still feeling his glare on the back of my head. My hands root through the cabinets, until I feel two long plastic box that I can just make out as reading "PEMBLETON: 9MM PARABELLUM". I pocket them. Bill is reloading a large shotgun with the slugs I grabbed. He slings it over his shoulder, and reaches into a small case at his feet, and shows me a tin can. Except this is no ordinary tin can one often finds at abandoned camps or on the side of the road in ruined cars. It has nails, forks and sharp pieces of metal jutting out from everywhere except the bottom, where Bill carefully holds the strange device.

"Nail bomb. These things are as fine as frog's hair." Despite his earlier statement, he carelessly tosses one at me and I grab it, cutting myself a bit on a point of spoon. I hold it and follow him. We get back outside, and he hands off another shotgun to Lilly. Then he passes a box of 9mm rounds to Jane, who checks the magazine of her handgun, then slams it back into the black frame. Dom is gripping a large bottle filled with amber liquid that has a washcloth tucked into the top. We nod at eachother, then Bill leads the way.

...

Ducking behind a shitty old hatchback, everyone examines the nearby pharmacy. It unnervingly looks the same as Lee's family's one, right down to the neon sing and the gated entrance, which looks locked with various chains and bolts. After a few minutes of sneaking around, we got behind this overturned vehicle, which reeks of carrion and rats. Bill scratches his chin, and murmurs to himself. He grabs a plastic package from the back of the vehicle, and opens it to reveal some old and heavily used silverware. He motions at my bomb, and then slides them into his pack. I raise an eyebrow, he shrugs and mutters to himself, in a gentle and somewhat entranced voice.

"I like rusty spoons..." he shakes his head and zips the pack, then returns to the task at hand. "Hmph. Locked gate, just like before. Windows are boarded up. They'd see us coming anyway." His eyes flash to another direction, the alley that the store borders. Without turning, he makes several complicated gestures, with his fingers and slight flicks of his wrist. Everyone but Frank and Lilly nod. The man whips around, and glares at out uncomprehending faces. "Okay. Here's the deal. Jane and I circle 'round back, either bang on the door for them to come back, which might provide a good distraction, or if we can, we unlock it, we do it. Two parties converge on the inside, we flank those assholes, Clem you make the distraction, throw that nail bomb at the window."

I nod, then frown, wondering what Lee would do in this situation. Or Kenny. Or any of them. Lilly looks at me, then moves away, fast. I don't know how I feel about her. When I saw her again, when that hood was yanked off her head, my vision went red. I pictured myself shooting her in the exact spot that her bullet went into Carley. And yet, I know how she felt. Alone, lost, and terrified. After Lee and after Omid. Christa was like that. We all do bad things when we are torn up by grief. Christa...she beat me.

The first time it happened, it was a few days after Omid. she had taken my handgun away. I was worried about a walker finding me, defenseless. We had been camping in a small clearing. She hadn't spoken since I put him down with the Glock used to kill him. She went off to take a piss, her words, not mine. I heard footsteps, inconsistent and clumsy, coming my way. What used to be a nurse was headed to me. It had once been a bald black man, with one of those funny earrings that were white, and made your earlobe look huge. It snarled and staggered towards me. I looked around for a weapon, and spotted Christa's pack. I unzipped and found my handgun. The one I got from the guard in Savannah. I pressed down on the magazine release on the grip,checked the amount of rounds left. Six.

I took a deep breath, and rose the firearm. I exhaled as I squeezed the trigger, just like Lee taught me. A bang, and a puff of smoke and flame, and the walker was down. It took about 30 seconds for Christa to come back. She rushed, as much as she could with her swollen stomach, back to the camp. She stared at the decaying corpse. A brown blur flashed near my face. I was thrown to the ground, blood rushing down my cheek, dripping onto the already blood-stained grass. I sat there for a second. More blows rained down on me, and the woman's voice called out, calling me a worthless little bitch, stupid, ignorant, foolish. _Murderer. Never. Ever. Waste a bullet. Never draw unnecessary attention or make unneeded noise. You killed Ben, you killed Kenny, you killed Lee, you killed Omid. _

...

Prepared, and only seconds after everyone else has been moved into position, I carefully grip the IED. A small flash of light from Dom's signal glass tells me its time. Three, two, one. I toss the bomb. I draw my 9mm semi-automatic pistol from my jeans. The explosion vibrates my teeth and skull. I get up and sprint to the gated entrance, already busted open by Dom and Lilly. They both draw their respective weapons, and miraculously, over the din of the bandit's frenzied shouts, we hear the door smash open in the back. Dom throws all of his strength into the door. The wood, weakened by age and several bullet holes in the frame, from previous conflicts, crumples under the blonde brute's force.

The echoing crash only adds to the insane combination of noises that have passed through the air in the bygone minute. Inside, the place is chaos. Jane is burrowing her bowie knife into the neck of mouse-y-looking man with beyond-dirty blonde hair. Two bandits each receive a shotgun shell to the chest. I see another orange muzzle flash, and a huge _BOOM! _is heard. Another body slumps over, missing a head. Dom roars and throws himself at the nearest bandit, pinning him. Lilly swiftly crosses over and fires her revolver once at the disabled man.

"CLEM! GET THE F-CLEM!"I run for Jane, who is grappling a brunette with a trucker cap and an out of control beard. He seems to be using this melee as an excuse to grope her. Jane repeatedly paws at her sheath knife, which is too far away for her to reach with the man grabbing her. I barrel towards them and fire a single round into his chest. Jane's elbow comes up, and a sickening crush reverberates through the air. Her knife drives into his gut.

"Yeah, you like that?! HUH!?" She quickly stands up seconds later, and plants her booted foot onto his face over and over. Three of our opponents rush out, each armed to the teeth. Bill and Lilly give pursuit, although only after each putting a bullet in one of the other bandits. I turn and yell as a man grabs me from behind. His tough calloused hands close around my chest, constricting my chest.

I squirm, and then bite down hard his scarred wrist. He howls in pain, and drops me. I land on my ass and back up, scrambling wildly for my dropped weapon. I spy it, under an empty rack. I grip it and bring it sights are lined up on a man with a deer in the headlights look, at least that's what Christa called it. He stares at me guiltily. He shakes his salt-and-pepper hair up, out of his hazel orbs. Dom throws himself onto him, and they both wrestle on the ground. Somehow, the thug is on top of Dom, choking him.

Dom's crowbar reaches up and hits the man in the forehead. A run over, ready to end this. Something silver whistles through the space in front of me, and roughly, I am thrown to the tiles in a way not unlike Lee was in a very similar business place. Blood, both my own and Dom's swirls on the floor, along with all the other bandits'. A younger man than the one who grabbed me, stands there with a mess of blonde hair, and a revolver in his grip. "Joel c'mon, we have to get out of here, you alright? Joel!?" He picks up my attacker, who whirls around and yanks on the other's filthy denim jacket.

"Where is she? Is she shot? Is she okay?" His eyes focus on me. I glare at him and grab my Glock. "We're sorry. Okay? We're done here Tommy. Let's go little brother" The two men steep to grab whatever they can carry and run off through the front entrance. I don't shoot, knowing that it will only draw more walkers. I observe Dom. He has a gunshot wound in his chest. Directly over his left lung. Blood bubbles up from his pale lips, and unto his pasty face. Just as I find a medkit stashed in a pack against one wall, a scream echoes out. A woman's. Biting my lip, I have to decide. Lilly/Jane or Dominic?

**-PATCH UP DOM-**

**-or-**

**-GO AFTER THE OTHERS-**

**I'm back guys! Remeber to vote, the final chapter will be posted soon, I SWEAR! Thank you everyone who is sticking to his story! I am so sorry, and yet so grateful!**


	6. We Are Them

**Alright! This is it. Final chapter. For all of those who voted, I want to thank you for doing so, especially if you stayed consistent. However, in this chapter, the difference in the last installment's poll won't really matter that much...sorry! Without further ado...this is the sixth and final chapter of Making It Work.**

_I fall. I get up. The bundle of bad in my arms screeches as I stumble yet again on the moss-covered, leaf-strewn gravel road. Blood trickles down my forehead from an old wound, and I unknowingly wipe it off. Damn thing's opened up again._

"No, no, no! We AREN'T doing that! We can't? Can we?! WE. DON'T. KNOW!" Luke gestures animatedly towards Jane, simultaneously driving the battered truck, practically with his knees as he holds Mike and keeps the tow women at bay. Both Jane and Lilly glare at him, scoffing and rolling their eyes as well. Mike's pale face lies in Luke's lap. He moans a bit, and both Jane and Lilly reach for their weapons. The former farm boy pulls the African-American closer. His hands are knotted in both his own and Mike's hair. Mike moans again.

"Goddammit! Let us out, or let us put a knife in his head Luke! I'm done with this weak bullshit you're always pulling with us! Carver? The bastard that killed your friends! You had a gun to him. You controlled what happened. And what do you say? Let's just tie him up!" Jane mocks. Lilly sighs in exasperation. AJ screams, and as I try calm him down, the large mixture of noises prevents us from hearing the one that could have changed it all.

Luke bellowed as Mike's yellowed teeth tore into his torso. Blood splattered all across his chest and Mike's face. "OH FUCK!" Jane shrieked as she attempted in vain as she reached over the console in an attempt to kill the undead beast. AJ cries only grew louder. Then the tires squealed as the car swerved, and flung all around as it was overturned. A blinding flash of hot pain zips across my forehead. Then black. Only black.

_Your fault. Your fault. You were the one who grabbed the bags after Dom...you didn't realize the bottles had no pills. It was labeled "MEDICINE". How? I should've known...I got us kicked out by Bill...he told us to get the hell out of his town...it's all 'cause of me...just..fucking...Growls behind and to the side of me interrupt my anguished bursts of thought. Several walkers shamble towards me. AJ's cries must have drawn them. I shake him a bit, pat the survival knife from the leather sheath on my belt and rush on wards, limping as fast as I can._

"Wha-Jilly? Lane!? Uhngh...guys?!" I can't see. Oh God, not blind. I can't be blind. But if I'm not, why is black all I see? Oh my fucking God. AJ's screams echo out. Fuck it if I'm blind, I'm gonna help that baby.I fumble senselessly for my belt buckle, and hit the ground hard with a push once I locate it. I hit the ground hard.

I use this time to search for AJ. Thank God we found that booster seat. He's still strapped in, secure and somewhat snug. Not really. I pulls him out, and then pause to wipe at my eyes. I can see! I frantically swipe at my forehead, and my skull stings. A gash is there. I tenderly touch it, and it burns. Bad. I pull my hand away and scrub my fingers off on my split jeans.

His little face is bright red and puckered up like a tomato. I would laugh if it weren't for the situation we're in. Maybe Jane or Lilly would. Luke and Mike for sure. My stomach clenches at the thought of the four of them. The females are nowhere to be found. But I can see my two friends, or what's left of them, all too clearly.

Luke's intestines are spilled out, slopping in strands all over the remainder of the car's dash, his body, the roof. Mike is purposefully, yet futilely snapping at us, or what's left of him anyway. It's only his torso that's free, the rest is trapped, under what I don't know, but am grateful. He could have devoured us before we even woke up. I grab the enarest thing I can find, a belt buckle, and bring it down on the walker's temple as hard as I can. A few hits later, he's down. I begin to crawl my way out of the car, already seeing a pack of those creeps heading for us. "Lilly! Jane! Where-GUYS!?" Keeping your voice down while screaming out for your friends isn't exactly easy to do at the same time. I shake my head, and run off. As fast as I can. Maybe I can find them again. Like I found Kenny. _Shut up,_ I tell myself again.

_They're here. I can't run any longer. I run in circles, looking for an opening. There are too many. They surround us. Too late. There! A car, small, but the windows are intact. I head over to it, and grab the handle of the car door, which is thankfully unlocked, and enter the stalled vehicle, and slam the door closed. We're trapped now. No point in trying to clear a way out. There's too many and it will only draw more. I can't out wait them, there must be hundreds. _

_No skylight to climb through. No ventilation duck to break into and crawl out through with the 50 cents in the cupholders. Its over. AJ screams even more. I feel the pressure of my Glock in my pants pocket. Maybe...maybe it doesn't have to end like this for him. No. No. It does. This is the way we all end. We're them. I stopped being human a long time ago. So did everyone. We are no different from the walkers. We are them. I am them. I look down again at that poor, sobbing, scrunched-up face. I don't want that for him. I guess a bullet through his brain would be better than being devoured. So I do as Lee said. I bring up the 9mm, take aim, take a breath, and squeeze the trigger. And let it go. The body. The gun. My hope._

_Its minutes later when I look up and see the walkers all standing in a very organized fashion. One of them reaches over and taps on the window. I oblige. The walker reaches under its skin and tears its face off. Literally. With what would once have been a sickening sound, wet and convoluted, a woman, white and bald, almost like a pearl, stands there. "My name is Alpha. You've done very well. You have a place with us. You've been through a lot. Just like us." She gives me a smile, a genuine one. She reaches down with her hand, the hood in the other. I see the other walkers behind us show little flaps of skin to me, revealing that they are human, like Alpha. Luke would have called this sick. So would Lee. So would most people before. I almost do it myself. But. I have nothing, no one else. Jane told me I can make it on my own. And I can. But I don't want to. So many other things are decided for us now, I wanna be able to choose what I want, at any chance I can. If it helps me survive...then I'm all for it._

_"It's my daughters. It'll be a little big, but you can can make it work. Why, you and I have been making it work from the start." The woman hands me another mask from her belt. "We whisper, and the dead don't mind. You'll see." I reach out, and without hesitation, I arrange it over my head, finding the holes for my nose and mouth and correlating them correctly. I take her hand, yet another gift. I step out, into the real world. I am them._

_-_**SEQUEL-**

**-or-**

**-NO SEQUEL-**

**Well that sucked. But it's all I can do now. I made a promise, and I am trying to keep it. So answer in your reviews please! If I get 20 "yes-es" there will be a sequel, only with no choices for the readers! Thanks so much for the support, and all my friends on this site, so basically everyone who ever reviewed, liked, and followed/favorited me and or this story. Keep writing and reading, you are all amazing! Also, everyone who watched The Mist knows where this ending came from! Also, Orphan Black was crazy last night!**


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